


Hey Stranger

by ToxikCherrys16



Category: Teen Wolf (TV), The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, F/M, Female Stiles Stilinski, Fluff and Humor, Implied/Referenced Underage Drinking, Newt has a limp, Stiles Stilinski is Thomas (Maze Runner)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-22
Updated: 2017-07-22
Packaged: 2018-12-05 10:34:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11576304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToxikCherrys16/pseuds/ToxikCherrys16
Summary: *COMPLETE* When Stiles wakes up, she isn't where she was planning to be. She isn't in her best friends bed, but rather, a strangers. Summary is a WIP. Disclaimer - I DO NOT OWN TEEN WOLF OR THE MAZE RUNNER.





	Hey Stranger

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [I'm Hungover, This Isn't the Right Apartment, and You're Pretty Cute.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2556884) by [daaftpunkk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/daaftpunkk/pseuds/daaftpunkk). 



> Hey guys and gals. Hello to the new, and welcome back to the old. Here's another story. It's another idea I got while in Ireland after reading 'I'm Drunk, This Isn't the Right Apartment, and You're Pretty Cute by daaftpunkk.'
> 
> I'm hoping this is humorous, but I can't promise anything. It just depends on your sense of humour, but iKnightWriter has said it was funny. Coincidently, she helped me write the end of this when I knew what I wanted to write, but not how to get it down onto the page. Damn dyslexia.
> 
> In other news, something scary happened last week... I turned 21. I know, shocking, right. The new Doctor was announced on my birthday.
> 
> Anyway, thank you to everybody who reads this, reviews, comments, favourites and all that jazz. It really means a lot to me, and my confidence in my writing and art has really gone up. When I first started posting, I was really scared about what people would say, and it was only when another writer gave me a push that I posted. Thanks ArtisticRainey.
> 
> Now, on with the story. Please R&R or comment if you want.
> 
> T.C
> 
> Oh, and to people who may complain about me always writing Fem!Stiles stories, I have a thing about it. And it doesn't mean that I don't like Dylan, because he was the one that got me into Teen Wolf, and Stiles is my favourite character. The character, is whatever the writer wants them to be.

    Getting drunk seemed like a great idea, until it came time to go home, and the person that you went out with, lives in the opposite direction to you, and leaves you to walk home by yourself – thanks for that Danny.

    Not only was it bad enough that I was underage, and the daughter of the Sheriff, but I happened to make a huge fool of myself, and didn’t even know it until the next morning when I finally woke up with a killer hangover.

    Sometime during the walk, my drunk brain had decided it would be a great idea to go to Scott’s house, and let him wake up to his best friend, sleeping in his bed. We’d done it before, just not when one of us was as drunk as a skunk. It would be funny though, so it was a go ahead.

    And for the life of me, I have no idea how I managed to get into his bedroom. I’d obviously tried the door first, but I couldn’t get in, so it was then search for any open windows – which there weren’t – and trying to get onto the overhang was impossible – as I found out when I tried, and failed, to get onto it.

    I hadn’t thought to check under any plant pots at first, but it seemed like such a better idea then any of the ones I’d tried already, and a brilliant idea when I found one. It was a stupid idea to put one in an obvious place, but it helped when trying to get in when drunk.

    _Since when has the couch been there_ , I thought when I bumped into it, and fell to the ground, _I could always stay here, but Mama McCall may kill me if she find me like this in the morning_.

    So I got up, and tried my hardest to get up the stairs and not bump into anything, all while trying to stay quiet. I don’t know how well I did with that, but nobody came out of a room or anything to see what was going on.

    Once I got to the landing, getting to the room was easy – first on the right – but getting in was a bit of a challenge, because I couldn’t figure out how to turn the handle, but I did it eventually. And actually making it to the bed was difficult, because it had been moved from in front of the window, to the corner of the room.

    Since when had Scott done that? I thought, just about stopping myself from falling flat on my face, on the wooden floor.

    My second try at getting onto the bed went better than the first. At least I landed on the bed instead of the floor, even though it was a close call to whether I’d end up falling off the bed anyway.

    And with that, I rolled further onto the bed, and promptly fell asleep; thinking about how funny it was going to be in the morning, when Scott woke up.

 

**~oOo~**

 

    Needless to say, nothing was funny when I woke up. My head was pounding, my throat was dry, and I felt like I was dying. That wasn’t the worst thing that could have happened though… It was the feeling of being watched, that I found to be even worse then how I felt.

    Opening my eyes was a big mistake. Light was flooding the room, and it made the banging in my head even worse then it already happened to be. I groaned, and put my arm over my eyes to help block out the light; which I could still see behind my eyelids.

    Then I heard a chuckle, and a voice that even my hungover brain could tell didn’t belong to Scott. The accent was odd, but I was pretty sure that it was a British accent, instead of somebody who’s native tongue wasn’t English.

    “Head hurt?”

    My eyes shot open, and I immediately regretted opening them again, even if it wasn’t a conscious decision. Everything was a blur of light a colour, apart from a dark shape standing next to the bed.

    “I have no idea who you are, but you are evil.” I mumbled, trying to roll over to escape the light. But I rolled the wrong way, and ended up falling to the floor with a loud thump.

    “I can always take these away.” He held out his hands, to show some tablets and a glass of water, “That would be a lot more evil."

    “Gimme.” I tried to reach for the glass and pills, but failed miserably, and my arm fell back to the floor.

    “Come on. Sit up.” I heard something being put on the bedside table, before a pair of hands helped me up. The he placed two tablets in my hand, and helped me bring the glass of water to my lips.

    However, when I drank the water, I found that it wasn’t what I thought it was. It tasted disgusting, even if it did make the rolling of my stomach die down.

    “Oh my God. What is that?” I coughed.

    "Alka Seltzer.”

    “It’s like drinking chemicals.”

    “Well, it is an Alkaline, hence the name. The Acids in your stomach are going haywire, so adding an Alkaline is going to help.”

    “How is this even a thing? It’s disgusting."

    I looked up, to see that the boy was definitely not Scott. He was about as tall as Scott, only he was skinnier, had blond hair, and looked rather boyish with his elfin features.

    “You’re definitely not Scott.”

    “No. I’m Newt.” He held out his hand for me to shake.

    Shit! What do I do? I can’t give him my real name. That would be fun. _Hey, I’m the underage daughter of the Sheriff, and I broke into your house while I was really drunk and fell asleep in your bed._

    “Thomas.” Why? Why did I choose that?

    “Nice to meet you, Tommi.” He smiled, and I could’ve died happy, right then and there, “But how did you end up in my house?”

    “I thought this was my friends house, and I was going to scare him when he woke up. I was very drunk last night, and I’m really sorry.”

    He just stood there with a small smile on his face, as I kept rambling on. Why wasn’t he stopping me from embarrassing myself more than I already have? Just tell me to shut up, how hard was that to do?

    “Well, I’d better go. My dad will be wondering where I am.”

    And with that, I made a break for it; running out of his room, down the stairs, and out of the front door before he even had a chance to catch me.

 

 **~oOo~**  

 

    “I swear, I am never getting drunk again… Well, not really, but that was probably the most embarrassed I’ve ever been.” I was walking towards my first period with Scott a couple of days after the incident.

    “And you just woke up in his bed?”

    “Haven’t you been listening?” I gave him a Gibbs Slap, “I broke into his house, fell asleep, and woke up to him standing over me. It was really freaky, and he didn’t react like a normal person in that situation."

   I’d spent most of Saturday freaking out about what had happened, and not talking to anybody about what had happened. Not even Scott, who I told everything to. He’d tried calling, but I didn’t answer.

   When I’d sorted through everything though, I found it easier to talk to him about it, even if he was being really dense about what happened, but that was Scott for you. The lovable idiot, who just happened to be my best friend.

   We’d just taken our seats in Coach’s class, when Danny came over to us. Danny was a cool person, and everybody loved him because he was so laid back.

   “Have you seen the new kid?” He asked, taking the seat beside Scott, “He’s really cute, but I overheard him on the phone with somebody about this cute girl he met. It’s a real bummer.”

   Then I looked to the door, where the blond from Saturday morning stood. He was staring right at me, and I could feel my cheeks going red as I tried to slip under the desk to escape his gaze.

   “Just take the seat beside Stilinski.” I heard Coach tell him, before I heard an uneven gate, which I assumed was his.

   “Hey, Tommi.”

   And that is when I wished Hell would open up, and just swallow me right then and there, because that couldn’t be any worse then how complicated my life was about to become.

 

 **~oOo~**  

 

    Over the next couple of days, I had successfully managed to avoid interacting with Newt; apart from the unavoidable times in the classes we shared, and the odd moments of eye contact.

    Scott had tried to talk to me about it during one of our game nights, but I just hit him with a pillow. And when that didn’t get through to him, I chucked one of my books at him; hitting him in the stomach.

    But all my avoiding went out the window, when I had a free period; which I decided to spend in the library. And that is also where the blond Brit had decided to spend his free time too. He was looking at different books on the shelves, while I just put in my headphones, and started playing All Time Low.

    Then a shadow passed over blank piece of paper. I didn’t have to look up to know who it was, because I knew that it was Newt.

    “Mind if I sit down, Tommi?"

    I could feel my cheeks going red, and I couldn’t stop it. I just ducked my head, and gave a small nod, hoping that he wouldn’t want to start up a conversation; mainly because I didn’t think I could do that without being mortally embarrassed.

    “You’ve been avoiding me.” Oh shit, “Can I ask why that is?”

    “You can. Doesn’t mean I’ll give you a truthful answer though.” I told him, taking out only one headphone to hear him, “I’m just thinking of my next paper for Coach. Let’s see if I can freak him out again.”

    “What was the first, if I may ask.”

    “The entire history of the male circumcision. Maybe I’ll do chemical castration.” I mused, writing that down on the sheet of paper in front of me.

    Newt looked at me for a few seconds before shaking his head. He was probably going to say about Coach being the teacher of Economics, but refrained himself from saying anything, and just going with the flow.

    We sat in silence for a few minutes – him just observing me – before he tried to strike up another conversation.

    “So are we ever going to discuss what happened last week, or am I just going to be left in the dark?”

    “Not much to discuss.” I packed away my things and started walking away, “I got dunk and woke up in your room. It’s not my fault you’ve become my stalker.”

    “Me? A stalker? You could argue that _you_ are the stalker.” He was struggling to keep up, “And do you mind slowing down? I happen to have a bum leg, if you hadn’t noticed.”

    Taking a deep breath, I stopped and waited for him. If I kept on walking, I wasn’t sure if he’d just shout about what he wanted to know or not. I didn't know him well enough yet.

    “Thank you.” He said when he caught up to me, “All I want to know, is why you lied to me. I mean, it’s obvious that you were drunk, but from what I’ve learnt, your name isn’t even Tommi…”

    “Because I’m the daughter of the Sheriff. The underage daughter, might I add.” I looked him dead in the eyes, “That’s why I lied.”

    “And you think I’d give up your secret?”

    “I don’t know you well enough to say otherwise.”

    “So why don’t we start over?” He asked, holding out his hand, “Hi, I’m Newt. I’m eighteen, and just moved over from the United Kingdom.”

    “Hello, Newt. I’m Stiles, seventeen, and my best friend is Scott.”

 

**~oOo~**

 

    Our friendship became something more, much to Scott’s dismay, and Danny’s heartbreak that Newt didn’t swing his way. But I was happy, and that’s all that mattered to me.

    Everything was going fine, until the dreaded ‘Meet the Parents’ that always happened at one point or another. The problem would come when the question of how we met came up, which it was bound to at some time.

    And it did, right in the middle of dinner with my dad and Newt’s parents. Right after I’d taken a huge mouthful of curly fries.

    “We er… We met at school.” Newt finally said, but only after I kicked him under the table. There was no way in _Hell_ , that my dad or his parents were learning about how we actually met.

    “At school? Are you sure about that?”

    “Yes, absolutely.” I answered, probably a bit too quickly, “We definitely met at school. Coaches class to be specific.”

    From the look my father was giving me, I could tell he definitely didn’t believe a word that was coming out of my mouth. Mind you, he was used to all my lies and my not telling the truth. Newt’s parents just nodded.

    “And you wouldn’t happen to be lying to us, would you?”

    “That depends on your definition of lying.”

    “I define it as not telling the truth.” He said, taking a bite of his veggie burger, “What do you define it as?”

    “Reclining your body… In a horizontal… Position.”

    Newt started to cough to hide his laughter and amusement; taking a drink of his lemonade.

    “Well, I think it’s wonderful to see Newt smiling again. He went through such a dark time, and he’s finally starting to find happiness."

    The rest of dinner went along without any major complications. Only a few small lies that we were probably going to regret at some point in the future, but right now, that didn’t matter.

    And at the end of the night, we found ourselves outside, sitting on the porch steps, just talking about how the evening went.

    “It didn’t go awfully.” Newt had his arm around my shoulders, “I mean, it could’ve gone a lot worse.”

    “How could it have been worse?”

    “My parents could’ve hated you. Your father could have threatened me with one of his guns…”

    “Which could still happen if he ever find out how we actually met.” I rested my head on his shoulder.

   “Something tells me that he didn’t exactly believe a word that came out of your mouth this evening,” Newt told me, resting his head on top of mine.

   “Probably right,” I answered, giving him a pat on his cheek. “But we can just ignore the problem until it goes away.”

   Newt laughed as he took a hold of the hand I used to pat his cheek and kisses the palm of it, “Sounds good to me.”

   I move my head to look at him, “I’m already becoming a bad influence on you.” However, instead of agreeing with me, Newt gave me this smile, a smile that I couldn’t exactly read, “What are you thinking about?”

   “This,” He answered as he caressed my cheek with a hand of his own and leaned in. I don’t pull back, but I don’t lean either. It was almost as if I had lost all my motor skills until I felt his lips on mine. And I’ll be damned, I could feel the sparks between us.

     “Even though the door is closed,” My father’s voice said, ruining the moment. “We still know what you're doing.”


End file.
